Post Heroic Feat Syndrome
by Neeup and Greegrue
Summary: A psuedo-humorous take on the events after the game with an emphasis on Maria and Fayt. AKA FaytxMaria. Or Faria.
1. When Dubiously Discoursing

A fantastical note from the author: I've tried to more or less keep the characters in character, so to speak, but don't hold me to that. I happen to like Fayt more as a happy-go-lucky simpleton more, so there you go. If it's terrible, I can shield myself with the premise that it's supposed to be funny.

I don't fully comprehend the notion of a disclaimer. If it wasn't all right for us to do this, it seems as if would have received a tasty cease and desist letter. Which they have in the past. Oh well. In any case, I'm being rebellious and stopping now before my verbose ramblings have more content than the story itself.

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Chapter I, One, or 1: When Dubiously Discoursing

Fayt was, in all ostensible respects, chilling. His left arm was draped behind him, he was slouching heavily, and there was a half eaten bag of some sort of crispy goodness on the desk that stood before him. His other hand fluctuated between idly drumming aforementioned desk and making some deft keystrokes. Before long, the translucent screen beamed back the visage of a grinning Jack. Fayt grinned back.

A knock on the door didn't interrupt this quiet satisfaction. Nor did the subsequent bangings. Fayt distantly heard a muffled female voice threatening. "Fayt, godammit, you had better not be playing Freecell again."

At this, Fayt powered down the monitor, swiveled in his chair, and ambled over to the door. On the other side stood a rather distressed but still very fetching young woman named Maria. Upon seeing our protagonist, she put her hand on her hip and mustered a stern look. "Fayt, what time is it?"

Fayt smiled. "Oh, I've got all the time in the world for yo-"

"Fayt, no." Maria interrupted. "Number one, you're late and I'm angry, number two, we're past that, number three, you aren't even saying it properly."

Fayt was unfazed. "Late for what?"

"We're having a meeting. In the conference room. You know, the one up the stairs and down the hall."

"The one we never use?" Fayt queried.

"Just shut up and come with me," Maria said with a hint of exasperation.

The pair made their way down the hall and up the stairs to the main floor of the flagship formerly known as Diplo. Cliff had wanted to rechristen it the Smashing Palm, but the idea had been vetoed.

As the two prepared to enter the conference room, Fayt took a sidelong glance at Maria and asked "Hey, are you tired?"

A preoccupied Maria replied "No, why?"

"Well," Fayt chuckled, "You've been running through my min-"

A swift elbow to the stomach rendered Fayt incapable of completing his sentence and he begrudingly entered and took a seat among his compatriots.


	2. The Teeth of the Matter

Notes and such: Many thanks to those that reviewed! And I'm sorry for the fart joke. And the Diplo magically spawned a bathroom. Oh, and the idea I shamelessly remastered for the second half. It never gets old, right?

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Chapter II (2 or two): The Teeth of the Matter

Maria's hands calmly rested on the tabletop before her. Her posture suggested she might be pensive, least mildy thoughtful. Her eyes slowly surveyed the narrow room, resting briefly on the people occupying it, all of which were either holding side conversations or otherwise amusing themselves. In short, not in the least bit paying attention to Maria.

Adray was talking excitedly to a disinterested Nel about some nonsense involving Clair and fitness regimens. Albel, ever the non-conformist, was leaning against a wall, silently making a point to not sit down. Cliff and Mirage were sharing yet another esoteric moment, punctuated by many affirmations which usually resulted in Cliff swiftly punching his palm. Sophia was just kind of staring off into space. And Fayt...

Fayt was writing furiously in a notebook of some sort. When Maria peered to get a closer look, she read the following words:

"...game #173 was deceptively easy. Just when I thought I was stuck, I found a way, and it was smooth sailing from then on. All in all a pretty fun game. I'm well on my way to proving every game is winnable."

Fayt caught Maria looking and beamed at her. "You ever play, Maria?"

"Uh, no Fayt. I sure don't. Maybe you can teach me some time," replied a slightly put-off Maria. "Anyway," she piped up, "I'd like to start now."

At that, everyone slowly stopped talking and turned to face Maria. Except Adray. But everyone more or less treated him like he wasn't there anyway, so nothing lost.

"Well everyone," Maria spoke slowly, "we have, veritably, saved the world from certain doom and destruction. And after some deliberation, and after talking with a few of you, I've decided to disband Quark. I feel the principles that it was founded on are no longer relevant in light of all that's happened.

"Futhermore-" at this point Maria paused to look around her, eyes resting briefly on Fayt (who actually looked serious), "I'm tired. I feel jaded. I don't want any recognition, any fame from all of this. I-" 

Maria's reverie was soundly trounced by a noisy expulsion of air from Adray's direction. 7 sets of wide eyes turned to stare at him. He, in turn, leaned back put his hands behind his head. "Yeah yeah, I figure I'll return to Aquaria and take the rest of this life as it comes. Abulia and all that, you know."

Cliff cleared his throat. "Me, I'm taking back this ship. Don't know what's on the menu, yet, but I'll figure it out as I go along."

Mirage smiled slightly. "I'll stay with Cliff, for the time being."

Nel spoke. "I will be returning to my position in service of Her Majesty. Of course. Though...all that seems rather trivial now, doesn't it?" Nel trailed off, lost in thought.

"Hmmph." Albel.

Sophia seemed unsure. "I want to find my parents, make sure they're all right...after that, who knows? I guess I'll go back to Earth...to home."

The room turned silent. Everyone was lost within themselves, thinking about the future. Fayt spoke. "Well, I..." he hesitated as the group turned to look at him. "I don't really know what to do now. Going back to a normal life seems a bit impossible now. I guess I need more time to think. Maybe we all do."

A few nods, then Cliff. "You know Fayt, that's what I've always liked about you: your ability to state the stunningly obvious."

Fayt offered a bit of a smile and the group broke. Eventually only Fayt and Maria were left.

"I may not know what to do next...but I know who I want to be with," said Fayt blithely.

"Wow Fayt, that one wasn't that bad. Keep it up and you'll have me swooning."

"You mean to say I don't already?"

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The Diplomatic Flagship "Diplo" was quiet. Silent, even. Dark and silent. Not quite to an eerie or gloomy degree, but dark and silent nonetheless. The reason behind this lack of lights and noise, of course, was simple: it was the time designated for the fondly dubbed 'Lights Out'. Naturally, not everyone was sleeping. Inside of his quarters, Cliff jolted awake.

"Damn. I knew that last Berry Potion was one too many." At that, he swung his feet over the side of his bed and stumbled out the door.

As Cliff strode past Maria's door he heard an audible male voice. "Man, this kind of stuff always happens when you need to take a marathon piss," Cliff grumbled. He put his ear against the door.

"Ooh yeah, I like the way you did that," said a voice Cliff recognized to be Fayt's.

"How's that? Am I doing it right?" said a muffled Maria.

Cliff backed away from the door, torn between respect for his friends and an insatible curiosity. It goes without saying which one won.

"Here, let me see it. If you put this up here...and that right there...now try it."

"Damn, this rules," mumbled Cliff.

"Fayt, this is too hard. Can't we do something else?"

"Come on, try it again. You were doing good. Just take your time and enjoy it."

It got silent for a few minutes, and then Fayt again. "Almost done now. This ending part is pretty cool. Everything kind of explodes."

"Okay, that was kind of cool. I guess. I still don't see how you can do it that much."

By this point, of course, Cliff had little choice in the matter and was forced to laugh uproariously. It was all he could do to hasten into the bathroom without thing escalating to a wetter degree.

In Maria's room, both heads turned toward the door, the won Freecell game on the screen behind them. "I suddenly feel very cliche, but did you hear that?"

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Next stop: Elicoor II.


End file.
